


Bomb

by ou73rsc13nc3



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Drarry who?, Fluff, Harry potter what?, M/M, Shameless Smut, Thought you saw the last of Shin huh, You didnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ou73rsc13nc3/pseuds/ou73rsc13nc3
Summary: Fuck summaries take the shitty fic lmao





	

Wylan was holding Jesper to his chest, Jesper's head tucked under his chin as he had his long arms wrapped around Wylan's waist, merchling humming some Kaelish song he'd learned a long time ago, probably when he was living with his father, following his rules, trying to be the best son he could be. It was much different now. Wylan's head stood higher, his Zemeni sky blue eyes shined brighter. He was the same naïve boy that Jesper came to like, love even, but he was still Wylan Van Eck. He was stroking his hair to the tune, their legs intertwined with each other. Jesper was twirling Wylan's red hair in his fingers. It was thick and curly, a comforting feeling whenever the sharpshooter could get his hands on the locks.  
They'd done this a lot lately; laying in each other's arms with Wylan humming and Jesper soaking in the attention the merchling gave him. He was smitten, there was nothing that could hide that. Did they deserve something so. . . domesticated?  
Jesper didn't want to dwell on it, seeing as there was no point in doing so. He had Wylan who took his breath away just by smiling softly at him, who sleeps with his arms tucked under his chest, the boy who played the piano with such grace that Jesper couldn't tell what was more beautiful; the sound of the instrument or the boy playing it.  
Jesper slid his hand under Wylan's shirt, feeling his spine and the curve that lead to his ass. Wylan's movements faltered for just a moment, his humming ceased and his body tense. Jesper moved his hand along his hip until it reached his stomach and he splayed his hand out, feeling how Wylan breathed. It was shallow and quick.  
"What do you think you're doing," Wylan asked.  
Jesper cranned his neck to kiss Wylan's neck. "I'm feeling you up."  
He swore he could hear Wylan's face flush red. He smiled against his neck, burying himself deeper into Wylan, into his love and affection for him. He stopped. Wylan's actions continued again, carding his fingers through Jesper's dark hair.  
He couldn't remember a time when he didn't stare at Wylan these days. When he was working, when he was thinking. Gray eyes never looked away from the merchling. Even when Wylan was asleep with his arms tucked under him, Jesper stared at him, moving reddish sun curls from his young and gentle face. His favorite times to stare, really stare, were when the sheets were twisted, body against body, moderation for others in the mansion long forgotten.  
He smiled against his neck before leaving an open mouth kiss there. Wylan let out a shaky breath as he pushed his fingers into Jesper's hair, resting his hand on his neck. He gave a slight squeeze, and that was all Jesper needed. He pushed his hand up until it reached Wylan's neck. He grasped the bottom of his jaw. Wylan backed away to move his body down and be eye to eye with Jesper. Jesper's hand held his face gently. He watched Wylan's blue eyes dilate as he leaned in and kissed him, deep and hard. Wylan let out a soft moan that Jesper swallowed by delving his tongue into his mouth, flipping them so that Wylan was on his back and Jesper was hovering over him. His forearms prevented him from laying completely on top the boy under him. He could feel Wylan's gentle hands touch his face, nimble and precise in his movements.  
They broke apart, and Jesper left hot kisses along Wylan's neck.  
"Saints," Wylan breathed, letting his head fall back.  
Jesper pulled away, removing his hand from the merchling's shirt. Wylan whined and arched his back to get Jesper's touch. Jesper slipped his fingers into Wylan's trousers, pulling them down slowly to reveal a smooth pair of thighs. His trousers were at the cruve that lead to his calves when Jesper bent down and kissed his inner thigh, leaving a fire in his wake. Wylan moaned, loud and long and Jesper hardened in his pants. He kissed along those milky legs until his breath got close to Wylan's hardened member between his legs and licked a long stripe from the base to the tip. Jesper felt the merchling's whole body tremble, his thighs quaking and back arching. Jesper left more kisses along his other thigh as he peeled the bottoms off.  
Once the trousers were rid of, Jesper focused on Wylan's shirt. It was nothing formal, just a white button up. Jesper stripped him of his shirt just as slowly when he removed his trousers, removing each button as if he was picking flowers from a garden. He kissed Wylan deeply, hands feeling along his face and soft hair. Jesper always kissed Wylan long and hard at times like this. Sometimes he'd kiss him so hard that their lips would swell slightly.  
Jesper was surprised when Wylan pushed forward so that they were both sitting upright. Wylan pulled away first, cupping the Zemeni's face. Jesper couldn't help but lean into the touch, a quiet groan escaping him as Wylan pressed his thumb to his bottom lip. Jesper wanted to kiss him again so badly, taste the inside of his mouth, feel the softness of his lips against his own.  
Wylan let his hand slide down his face, gently touching his brown skin like it'll break if he put on too much pressure on it. The hand stopped at Jesper's chest. His heart was a beating drum, thump after thump threatening to spill out of him. Wylan slowly unbuttoned Jesper's shirt, biting his already pink and swollen lip. Jesper watched him intently, stormy gray irises almost black. He let the merchling strip him to expose dark brown skin, let him get close to push the shirt from his shoulders and off his arms. Jesper tried to reach out to him, but Wylan grabbed his wrists and guided them back to his sides. Wylan shook his head and slipped his hands, those beautifully Saints crafted hands, down into his trousers. He gave the hard cock a quick squeeze and Jesper was starting to wonder if this was really Wylan Van Eck or not.   
The merchling pushed them past his hips, down his thighs and calves. Wylan pressed himself close, to a point, where if wasn't for the skin difference, Jesper wouldn't be able to tell where he began and Wylan ended. They stared at each other, just looking each other up until they made eye contact.  
"I—" Jesper cupped his face and bumped their foreheads, giving Wylan an eskimo kiss. He was so close, yet so far. They were close, and their breaths melded together.  
Jesper wondered if their heartbeats were in sync with each other, if they were feeling the same emotions.  
"Jesper." He was snatched away from his thoughts by the sound of Wylan's whine of his name. "Stop teasing me."  
He smiled, which was more of a smirk, and laid Wylan on his back. In the light, his skin looked golden, his hair fanned out and he didn't think he could get more beautiful but here he was, damning Jesper's heart to hell. Jesper leaned in to grab the gel the merchling created. They didn't know what to call it just yet. All Jesper knew was that having three fingers, knuckle deep inside of Wylan was his second favorite thing in the world.  
He sat back on his heels to coat the gel on three fingers as Wylan flipped on his stomach, face down with his ass up. Just how Jesper liked it. Jesper kissed Wylan's ass cheek and the merchling let out a groan. He is just too much fun. He blew on the fluttering ring of muscle, then pressed a gelled finger to the ring. It slipped inside easily, nothing Wylan couldn't take. He pulled it out slowly, too slowly apparently because Wylan rocked his hips back onto the finger immediately to get it deeper inside. So Jesper watched as Wylan became a desperate, moaning mess, clawing at the bed sheets and pushing his body back to feel more of him. Jesper twisted his finger to rub the velvet like walls, indulging himself in how Wylan tried to rub his cock against the bed. Jesper added another finger, scissoring the muscle. He watched his actions with a curious face despite his arousal. He knew Wylan could hold out for a long time, so he took his time in preparing him. By the third finger, Jesper had his body draped over Wylan, the position preventing him from fucking himself on Jesper's fingers, and he couldn't tell if the whines and mewls were from frustration, pleasure or both. He backed away, pulling the fingers out with him. He slicked himself up and pressed the tip of his cock against the slick hole. He pushed in, inch by inch. Jesper was thicker and longer than three of his fingers. He leaned over Wylan once more to intertwine their fingers; dark on light.  
"How do you want it tonight," Jesper purred in his ear, distracting the merchling's pain. "Hard and fast? I know how much you like that. Hard and slow? You know what that means." He started kissing and biting his ear.  
"Saints, Jes." Wylan shuddered.  
Jesper grinded his hips into the tight hole, feeling the way Wylan's body easily had accommodated to the situation. He lifted his hand from the merchling's and held onto his hip.  
He started with shallow thrusts, just to tease Wylan. He watched as the merchling buried his face in his arms, bending his back so that his ass was higher in the air.  
"Saints, Wylan, do you know how beautiful you look?"  
Jesper pulled out slowly, basking in the groan that escaped them both. He snapped his hips forward, using his other hand to splay in the middle of Wylan's back. Jesper had the urge to grab those red curls and pull. He did. Hard enough that a gasp escaped the merchling when his head was jerked up, but not not hard enough that it hurt. Jesper pulled at the hair again and thrusted at once. He bit his lip excruciatingly hard, almost drawing blood, to prevent himself from moaning when Wylan sobbed out in pleasure.  
Jesper was fucking into him slow and hard, pulling out so far that only the tip remained, then fucking back into him so hard that he didn't have time to catch his breath. He massaged Wylan's scalp, then tugged on it, hitting the merchling's favorite spot dead on in the process. Wylan choked on a loud moan, twisting the sheets with such vigor that they tore just a bit. Jesper kept hitting that spot, kept pulling on those beautiful curls, orgasm nearing with every moan Wylan let out, every thrust into that tight heat sending his over the edge more and more.  
"Oh Saints, Jesper, I'm close," Wylan gasped. "So close."  
Jesper gripped his small hip tighter, thrusts picking up pace. He let his hold on Wylan's hair cease. Instead, he lead his hand to Wylan's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.  
He could tell when Wylan has reached his limit. He knows when the merchling's stamina has come to an end. His body will tense and shudder, spasming and losing control of his voice. It'll crack and become hoarse in the morning, but to Jesper, Wylan's morning voice was the sexist thing in the world. One last stroke, and Wylan was cumming in his hand, back arching and pink hole clenching around Jesper's cock.  
Few more thrusts, and the sharpshooter was cumming, hips stuttering in their thrusts.

Jesper held Wylan tight in his arms while he slept. It had dawned on him that Wylan never finished his sentence. He wondered if he was going to say 'l love you'. He wondered if he should say it first, or whisper it like he always does while Wylan slept.  
He kissed the top of the sleeping merchling's head. "I love you."  
Wylan pushed at his face. "Love you, too," he mumbled. "But you're hot. Get off me."


End file.
